Makes Me Wonder
folder
Vampire › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,663
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Vampire › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,663
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Makes Me Wonder
Title: Makes Me Wonder
Author: Marguerite (Meant2live)
Archived: My laptop
Summary: Dru, a immortal who wonders whether her bout of vampirism is worth giving up everything she loved.
Rating: It ranges from PG-13 to NC-17 later on.
Feedback: Review please though do not flame.
Characters: Drusilla, James, Michael
Author Notes: None for now.
Disclaimer:There is a bit of everything in here, though this is my first story. I appreciate reviews and it helps to get my creative juices flowing. A bit of information is that it is in first person point of view and the person being Drusilla. Her Maker, as in the one who turned her is, Michael. There will be another person joining soon and I might revise this first chapter in a few hours' or so. Hope everyone enjoys it and once more, review but do not flame. I don't flame you and you have no reason to do so unless you know me in real life, then go ahead.
----Marguerite
----------------------
Chapter 1: Release Me
Everyone I know has been ripped from my life all because of the choice I made that night, so long ago. I was a foolish and naïve girl to think it could be different and in the end I paid for it dearly. How I have longed to be free of this pain, free of the shame and the horror, free from him. He was my downfall from Heaven and now plunged into the depths of Hell, all because I wanted a taste of the forbidden fruit.
Looking out over the horizon, I take one last look at the rising sun, knowing it would be the last time I would ever partake of the morning scenery. Soon, I would plunge into the depths of darkness and walk with him on this path where I had no clue where it leads me in the end. This is my story.
I hid myself within the group of ravers grinding their way to the music blaring overhead, hoping to the God I had forsaken that he would not find me again. It had taken several failed tries and each try caused me savage pain as he showed me what an insolent child I was. Yes, I was a child for I had still had the body of the teenage girl when he took my life and gave me another one, but my mind had matured over time and if I had shied away from his advances, I would have been thirty by now. Instead, I looked like a teenager who used faked identification to enter into the club and now I needed the shelter of this enclosed ravers to escape his grasp. The years I spent with him have been heaven and hell for me. There are times when I adore him and he comforts me and there are other times, most of the time when he hurts me to the point of never wanting to pick myself up the floor where he has broken me down emotionally and physically.
He hurts me and when he does it, he has a faraway look in his eyes, as if he wants nothing to do with himself, and he makes it easier for me to want to get away from him; to leave his side and find shelter and comfort in the arms of another lover. This has happened several times and all of those times ended in trying to get rid of the body, finding he had a jealous streak on him that would rival even the most abusing man.
I do not know what his past has done to him to make him want to lash out at me but all I know was that it was a past riddled without love or comfort. He has a scar starting from the top of his eyebrow to the bottom of his left eye, where the cheekbone and eye meet. What I know about it is that a knife had been slashed at his face and he was able to deflect the knife from piercing itself into his head but it had come down at the left-side of his face, giving him a sort of rogue look. God, I would run my fingers down it and kiss at it after he had used my body to satisfy his raging lust.
“Do not think you could escape from me that easily?” he whispered into my ear, his arm shooting out to wrap itself around my waist, pulling me up tight against him. The hair on my arms stood on end and if my heart could still beat, it would have stopped at the touch of him on me.
I always manage to recover from his brutal acts on me. These acts are so horrific that it always surprises me how much hatred he has that he inflicts it solely on me. There were times he had managed to carve his name into my thighs, making sure it went down to the bone as I cried out in pain, biting onto my fist until I drew my own blood. Just to make sure I would not heal quickly from the ordeal, he had bled me out, the bastard
Even now, my wrists were bandaged up, giving others the impression I self-mutilated when in reality this was the wounds my lover gave me. A lover I could never truly escape from. He holds me closer, pressing my bottom into his lap and already I could feel his growing erection. He takes pride in that he has caught me off guard and proud of what he might do to me now that he has his girl in his arms. What surprised me was him spinning me in his arms and positioning to dance against me, pressing my stomach against his own.
“Did you think you would not leave a trail, especially with your wounds seeping through the bandages? I could smell you a mile away.” He indicated it by lifting one of my wrists to notice that the wounds had started to seep through the bandages.
I tried unsuccessfully to pull my hand from his grasp but he used it to wrap it around his neck, causing me to stretch my legs out as we continued to dance. When we had met, I was barely at five-feet three inches to his six foot frame. Even now, with having grown two inches during the transition process from human to something else, he had still towered over me, instilling fear from the get go. How I would want to break myself from his hold but he can surely ruin the lives of my family, the ones that still live on.
He had promised to leave my family be, but I could never see them again. They had fought long and hard to try and pinpoint my location but they gave up after several years, realizing that I might not want to be found. It pained me to see my parents mourn my absence, especially my father who never got to see his little girl go on to college or even get married. God, I lost so many years with him as well as my mother and younger sister. Though they may have given up on me, I never gave up on them. I know he said that I could never come into contact with them but that did not mean I could not at least take part in making sure their lives were a bit easier after my departure.
I made sure to set up a trust fund, anonymously, of course for my sister, for her college education as well as her post graduate and so forth, if she really intended on becoming a veterinarian. For my parents, I had a few calls to make to have their house paid in full and made sure the deed would be in their names until such time they wanted to sell it. Hiding in the orange tree, that as a child I would pilfer from and eat the delicious sweet oranges, I took notice of their reactions to have a lawyer come to them in the evening to let them know of their house as well as other nuisances paid off fully for the next several years of their lives. My father had a look of shock and something else, as if he knew this anonymous donor was not anonymous at all and as he turned his head in my direction, hidden amongst the oranges, his eyes glazed over with tears. I knew it would not help to heal the wound I had left in their hearts but I wanted to show them I was never far away from them.
They were grateful and tried to refuse the donation but the lawyer insisted on them taking it and assured them there were no strings attached other than loving each other for the rest of their lives and to take care of their only child. At hearing those words, my mother chimed in and informed the lawyer, named James that they had two daughters and they let him know that their other child was away at college. God, my mother knew how to smooth things over but I knew my father let her go with that white lie to make it easier on themselves. God, I wish I could go back in time and decline Michael's offer of becoming one of the Damned, but my hormones got the best of me and look what it cost me.
Those thoughts always plague me every time I get out of a nasty argument with Michael. He always manages to rattle my emotions and my doubts about even staying on this earth. He has even forced me to try and commit suicide twice, both were botched as soon as Michael heard of what I planned to use on myself and foil it. In the end, he would try and make it up with a nice dinner and a night of pleasure but I know Michael does it to console his conscience and make himself the hero. Some hero he is, more like monster.
“Maybe I need to try better next time,” I hissed out as he tried to lean down for a kiss. I can smell he has already fed tonight and I wonder who the unlucky victim was, finding that by tomorrow the police department will have another homicide on their hands. Michael always manages to leave a trail of dead bodies in his wake, prompting us to leave quickly, never really getting the chance to let me put down roots in the towns. He does it to spite me, forcing me to become a gypsy roaming the countries without a home to call my own. I know where my home is and I gave it up for him, a man that is no damn man at all.
He grabs the back of my head and forces me to press my closed lips against his own, pushing his tongue to try and part my lips. At first, I resist, knowing this will get him riled up and hopefully his advances to stop. It is not until he slides his hand between our pressed bodies and starts to stroke me through my jeans, separating them to slide his knee in just the right spot, that I knew I was fighting a losing battle. He knew just what to do to get under my skin. I hated him for it and he reveled in it and made sure to exploit it to his advantage. “Maybe next time, you should not try to anger me into doing that to you,” he replied, indicating to my wounds as he continued to dance with me.
I know tonight it will be painful and I am ready for it. Another immortal time.
------
That is the end of Chapter 1. Hope to get the next few up.
Author: Marguerite (Meant2live)
Archived: My laptop
Summary: Dru, a immortal who wonders whether her bout of vampirism is worth giving up everything she loved.
Rating: It ranges from PG-13 to NC-17 later on.
Feedback: Review please though do not flame.
Characters: Drusilla, James, Michael
Author Notes: None for now.
Disclaimer:There is a bit of everything in here, though this is my first story. I appreciate reviews and it helps to get my creative juices flowing. A bit of information is that it is in first person point of view and the person being Drusilla. Her Maker, as in the one who turned her is, Michael. There will be another person joining soon and I might revise this first chapter in a few hours' or so. Hope everyone enjoys it and once more, review but do not flame. I don't flame you and you have no reason to do so unless you know me in real life, then go ahead.
----Marguerite
----------------------
Chapter 1: Release Me
Everyone I know has been ripped from my life all because of the choice I made that night, so long ago. I was a foolish and naïve girl to think it could be different and in the end I paid for it dearly. How I have longed to be free of this pain, free of the shame and the horror, free from him. He was my downfall from Heaven and now plunged into the depths of Hell, all because I wanted a taste of the forbidden fruit.
Looking out over the horizon, I take one last look at the rising sun, knowing it would be the last time I would ever partake of the morning scenery. Soon, I would plunge into the depths of darkness and walk with him on this path where I had no clue where it leads me in the end. This is my story.
I hid myself within the group of ravers grinding their way to the music blaring overhead, hoping to the God I had forsaken that he would not find me again. It had taken several failed tries and each try caused me savage pain as he showed me what an insolent child I was. Yes, I was a child for I had still had the body of the teenage girl when he took my life and gave me another one, but my mind had matured over time and if I had shied away from his advances, I would have been thirty by now. Instead, I looked like a teenager who used faked identification to enter into the club and now I needed the shelter of this enclosed ravers to escape his grasp. The years I spent with him have been heaven and hell for me. There are times when I adore him and he comforts me and there are other times, most of the time when he hurts me to the point of never wanting to pick myself up the floor where he has broken me down emotionally and physically.
He hurts me and when he does it, he has a faraway look in his eyes, as if he wants nothing to do with himself, and he makes it easier for me to want to get away from him; to leave his side and find shelter and comfort in the arms of another lover. This has happened several times and all of those times ended in trying to get rid of the body, finding he had a jealous streak on him that would rival even the most abusing man.
I do not know what his past has done to him to make him want to lash out at me but all I know was that it was a past riddled without love or comfort. He has a scar starting from the top of his eyebrow to the bottom of his left eye, where the cheekbone and eye meet. What I know about it is that a knife had been slashed at his face and he was able to deflect the knife from piercing itself into his head but it had come down at the left-side of his face, giving him a sort of rogue look. God, I would run my fingers down it and kiss at it after he had used my body to satisfy his raging lust.
“Do not think you could escape from me that easily?” he whispered into my ear, his arm shooting out to wrap itself around my waist, pulling me up tight against him. The hair on my arms stood on end and if my heart could still beat, it would have stopped at the touch of him on me.
I always manage to recover from his brutal acts on me. These acts are so horrific that it always surprises me how much hatred he has that he inflicts it solely on me. There were times he had managed to carve his name into my thighs, making sure it went down to the bone as I cried out in pain, biting onto my fist until I drew my own blood. Just to make sure I would not heal quickly from the ordeal, he had bled me out, the bastard
Even now, my wrists were bandaged up, giving others the impression I self-mutilated when in reality this was the wounds my lover gave me. A lover I could never truly escape from. He holds me closer, pressing my bottom into his lap and already I could feel his growing erection. He takes pride in that he has caught me off guard and proud of what he might do to me now that he has his girl in his arms. What surprised me was him spinning me in his arms and positioning to dance against me, pressing my stomach against his own.
“Did you think you would not leave a trail, especially with your wounds seeping through the bandages? I could smell you a mile away.” He indicated it by lifting one of my wrists to notice that the wounds had started to seep through the bandages.
I tried unsuccessfully to pull my hand from his grasp but he used it to wrap it around his neck, causing me to stretch my legs out as we continued to dance. When we had met, I was barely at five-feet three inches to his six foot frame. Even now, with having grown two inches during the transition process from human to something else, he had still towered over me, instilling fear from the get go. How I would want to break myself from his hold but he can surely ruin the lives of my family, the ones that still live on.
He had promised to leave my family be, but I could never see them again. They had fought long and hard to try and pinpoint my location but they gave up after several years, realizing that I might not want to be found. It pained me to see my parents mourn my absence, especially my father who never got to see his little girl go on to college or even get married. God, I lost so many years with him as well as my mother and younger sister. Though they may have given up on me, I never gave up on them. I know he said that I could never come into contact with them but that did not mean I could not at least take part in making sure their lives were a bit easier after my departure.
I made sure to set up a trust fund, anonymously, of course for my sister, for her college education as well as her post graduate and so forth, if she really intended on becoming a veterinarian. For my parents, I had a few calls to make to have their house paid in full and made sure the deed would be in their names until such time they wanted to sell it. Hiding in the orange tree, that as a child I would pilfer from and eat the delicious sweet oranges, I took notice of their reactions to have a lawyer come to them in the evening to let them know of their house as well as other nuisances paid off fully for the next several years of their lives. My father had a look of shock and something else, as if he knew this anonymous donor was not anonymous at all and as he turned his head in my direction, hidden amongst the oranges, his eyes glazed over with tears. I knew it would not help to heal the wound I had left in their hearts but I wanted to show them I was never far away from them.
They were grateful and tried to refuse the donation but the lawyer insisted on them taking it and assured them there were no strings attached other than loving each other for the rest of their lives and to take care of their only child. At hearing those words, my mother chimed in and informed the lawyer, named James that they had two daughters and they let him know that their other child was away at college. God, my mother knew how to smooth things over but I knew my father let her go with that white lie to make it easier on themselves. God, I wish I could go back in time and decline Michael's offer of becoming one of the Damned, but my hormones got the best of me and look what it cost me.
Those thoughts always plague me every time I get out of a nasty argument with Michael. He always manages to rattle my emotions and my doubts about even staying on this earth. He has even forced me to try and commit suicide twice, both were botched as soon as Michael heard of what I planned to use on myself and foil it. In the end, he would try and make it up with a nice dinner and a night of pleasure but I know Michael does it to console his conscience and make himself the hero. Some hero he is, more like monster.
“Maybe I need to try better next time,” I hissed out as he tried to lean down for a kiss. I can smell he has already fed tonight and I wonder who the unlucky victim was, finding that by tomorrow the police department will have another homicide on their hands. Michael always manages to leave a trail of dead bodies in his wake, prompting us to leave quickly, never really getting the chance to let me put down roots in the towns. He does it to spite me, forcing me to become a gypsy roaming the countries without a home to call my own. I know where my home is and I gave it up for him, a man that is no damn man at all.
He grabs the back of my head and forces me to press my closed lips against his own, pushing his tongue to try and part my lips. At first, I resist, knowing this will get him riled up and hopefully his advances to stop. It is not until he slides his hand between our pressed bodies and starts to stroke me through my jeans, separating them to slide his knee in just the right spot, that I knew I was fighting a losing battle. He knew just what to do to get under my skin. I hated him for it and he reveled in it and made sure to exploit it to his advantage. “Maybe next time, you should not try to anger me into doing that to you,” he replied, indicating to my wounds as he continued to dance with me.
I know tonight it will be painful and I am ready for it. Another immortal time.
------
That is the end of Chapter 1. Hope to get the next few up.